Unexpected
by ilybakura
Summary: Bakura smirked. "Retard and you over there, remind me of an angry couple. Always fighting, but have a love going on. You probably fuck each other's brains out. That's what's so damn funny." Arthur felt his cheeks heat up from anger and… Something else. "We're… Not like that!" [[Rated T for language and mild BoyxBoy. Summary inside! Tendershipping and USUK.]]


[[Mel-sama: ilybakura here and honestly, I have no idea where this fanfiction came from. All I can say, it was meant to be pure crack. But, it turned into this drama filled fluff and I can't understand where I went wrong. This idea came into my head and I couldn't change it and blaaaaah. I wrote it and waaaaah. ;~;

Timira: What she is trying to say… Is that she is very sorry for making something so shitty. Forgive her?

Mel-sama: Bleah. Who am I kidding? I spent two friggen days with writing this 25 paged crossover one-shot! ^ I totally fudged this up. A lot of things don't add up and they probably wouldn't interact like this… I got Ryou's and Bakura's characters messed up and England's and America's… Just doesn't make any sense! WHY AM I POSTING THIS?!

Timira: …Because you had a shot by lightning moment? You wanted to write about your two favourite couples… From two different fandoms… In the same fic…?

Mel-sama: Yes-u. ;n; I love my 'Kura and Ry-Ry… And Iggy and Amery… That just had to meet… But really. Fudge. Just take this failed piece of ****.

Warning: Insane inaccuracy of characters and plenty of grammar and punctual errors. Not the abridged versions of Yami Bakura and Bakura. BoyxBoy and language from mostly Yami Bakura and England. You have been warned!

Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh, nor do I own Hetalia. They belong to the respected owners. If I ever owned them, it would be yaoi porn. /shot. w ]]

~*~*~ Page Break ~*~*~

Beep.

"No…"

Beep.

"I don't wanna…"

Beep.

"It's too early…"

Beep.

"Ngh…"

Shuffle.

Be—

Ryou slapped his hand over the top of his alarm clock with his eyes lightly shut, mouth opening to let out a loud yawn. It was a Saturday morning and he forgot to unset his alarm clock. So he woke up, as if he was ready for school. Except it was a weekend.

Lying on his stomach was very uncomfortable for many reasons. One: He was wearing the millennium ring, so it was pressing deeply into his skin. Two: Having nothing in his stomach, caused his tummy to rumble and made it unpleasant from where he was lying. Three: It was killing his face. There probably would be a red mark against his cheek.

Predictions were right, because as soon as he stumbled out of bed, opened his curtains and made his way to his bathroom, he caught sight of himself. A red line from his chain bracelet was across his cheek from using his arm as a makeshift pillow during the night.

Rubbing his eyes, Ryou yawned again. It was way too early to be up, he felt really sluggish. It probably would have been only 7:00am, but he was up then and didn't think he would get back to sleep. Instead, he got himself ready.

The 18 year old grabbed his toothbrush and paste, light chocolate brown eyes lazily looking into the mirror as he began to brush his teeth, all the while, unbuttoning his light blue shirt striped PJ's off.

As he was doing so, the first sight of his millennium ring that morning appeared. A reddening dent from lying on it was against his pale skin.

His Yami was still in his soul-room, doing God knows what. In case you don't know; Yami means dark. Hikari means light, which would be Ryou. The millennium ring holds a dark force, able to bring the bad from the good. In this case, Ryou brought forth, Bakura.

Unable to remove the pendant from his neck, Ryou just tenderly held the ring in place as he shrugged his shirt off. Spitting out some toothpaste, he wiped his mouth clean before rinsing his face with cool water. Drying his face with a flannel, he looked in the mirror and chuckled at his bed hair.

Ryou's hair was white. It was an odd trait, but he got it from his mother. She was a Japanese woman and was an open minded one. Wise, yet, eccentric. However, his father was from England. Since he lived there for most of his life, it explained why he sounded more British than Japanese. Living in Japan for only three years.

It was only a year ago when he moved back to England. Being an exchange student was hard, but it wasn't so bad when he was with his friends (who he missed terribly). Despite everything that happened, he was glad to have the ring back to him. Long story… He didn't think he would like to share it.

Back to the topic about his mother? Well, she died when he was very young. But he could still remember so very clearly about her. A warming smile, gentle arms and a lovely singing voice. It was like she came out of a fairy tale. Ryou could talk about her for years if he wanted too.

Then there was his twin sister… Amane.

She was just like their mother. White hair, brown eyes like his own. Had a smile and laugh that lit up the whole room. They were best friends, they shared secrets. But she died also. His mother from a terrible illness and sister from a car accident. But before then, he had the millennium ring. It was like the ring was protecting him from the danger, as he could have been killed in that car accident also.

But something stopped him from being in the car that day, so he didn't die. Leading up to all the adventures with Bakura. As cheesy as it sounded, he thought Bakura was the greatest Hero of all time. Even if he was… Awful, mean, spiteful and angry most of the time.

Back to what he was doing. Ryou grabbed his hairbrush and began to comb through it. Wincing when he hit a knot. As he was brushing the dead strings coming from his head, he felt cool air brush against his shirtless torso, making him side glance to see a faint body next to him.

"Hey," muttered Ryou. Brushing his hair a bit softer.

The Spirit like body crossed his arms, looking towards the mirror and not seeing a reflection. Only Ryou.

"You're up early."

Ryou paused with his brushing, giving his reflection a grin. "Yeah. I didn't disturb you, did I?" Then he was back to brushing his hair.

Bakura shrugged, moving away from Ryou so he could walk behind him and lean his back against the door frame. Only hovering over it by a centimetre. Never actually touching it, because if he did, he would go right through. Same with walking, he would hover a centimetre over so he wouldn't sink into the floor boards. Making it seem like he was taller than his counterpart, when really they were the same height.

They were the same person, really. Well, technically speaking they were really different. Bakura was a lost soul from way back and Ryou was a long descendant of him. Yet, they fit as one. Dark and light. But they were sharing the same body; so naturally, they should be the same height.

"No, you didn't. I just recall you telling me you were going to sleep in," Bakura said. Still looking towards the large mirror in front of Ryou, but still, never seeing his reflection. Bakura watched Ryou stop tending to his hair, placing the brush onto the bathroom counter.

"I guess I'm not. I think I'm going to go out today," Ryou mused, bending down to pick up his PJ top from the floor. Tossing it into the wash basket by the sink.

"Go where?"

"Don't know. Maybe get some coffee before heading to the library?"

"How come you're asking me in the form of a question?"

"Again, don't know. You always like to plan out my day for me."

Bakura laughed softly at that, moving away from the door so he could hover towards the bed. Sitting on the edge, but not really sitting on it. The young white haired boy followed after him, looking around for some clothes in his closet.

"Why coffee?"

Ryou perked his head from out of his closet, settling on choosing a green button up shirt. Button up shirts were his favourite kind of shirts, they were easy to put on when he had long hair. They didn't get too hot either, since the material was usually this breathable fabric. Cotton, was it?

"What do you mean?"

"Why coffee when you can have tea?"

"Why salt when you can have pepper?"

The Yami gave Ryou a frown, not really following. All he did was ask why he wanted coffee and not tea. Then he had to go ahead and make it confusing for him.

"You make no sense, Hikari."

A small chuckle and Ryou grabbed some light blue jeans that were fitting for him. Heading out towards his bathroom again.

"I'll be changing." With that, he shut the door after himself and began to change into the clothes.

Bakura stayed where he was, uncrossing his arms and lying back on the bed as he looked up at the ceiling. Narrowing his eyes when the sun from the window began to get brighter the later it became. It was barely 7:30am and it was being a nuisance. Since when was London bright? Usually it was always so drab, he remembered that when he was with Ryou since childhood.

The door of the bathroom opened much later, revealing Ryou who was neatly dressed. Millennium ring hidden behind his shirt. Bakura was in a black t-shirt and jeans already. Since he had his clothes from his soul-room, and had changed before he appeared in front of his Hikari. So he didn't need to worry about himself.

Bounding over, Ryou grabbed his coat that was hanging on the doorknob of his bedroom door, looking towards the window like Bakura had.

"Gee… It's bright. That means it's going to rain later," Ryou predicted.

Not looking affected with the news, Bakura got up and hovered towards Ryou who was looking dazedly out the window.

"Big deal."

Ryou huffed, looking towards Bakura before shutting the door in his face. It didn't do much, because Bakura went right through the door. This made the Yami laugh, before hovering down the stairs. With another huff, Ryou sighed before heading down the stairway. Making light thumping noises with the tips of his toes.

Putting his coat around his shoulders, Ryou wriggled his foot into the opening of a sock near the door before pulling it over his heal with his hand. Then he did the same to the other as Bakura exited the house by going right through the door.

With a stumble, Ryou toed into his converses, unlocked the door and opened it with a yank. The cool air hitting him in the face, making him wrinkle his nose. Bakura however didn't look like he was affected, since he was a Spirit of course. No one could see him, except Ryou himself.

The Hikari grabbed his house key from in the lock, reaching for his wallet from the little brown bowl by the door.

"It's kinda windy…" muttered Ryou, looking up at the bright sky. The clouds were rolling in from afar, but didn't seem to cover the sun yet. When he didn't get an answer from Bakura, he looked back down with a blink before shutting the door quietly behind him. Locking it and pocketing the key into his back pocket.

Bakura glanced up, not even flinching away from the sun.

"I can see that," Bakura mumbled. But he could never feel it. Unless he took over Ryou's body.

Bakura used to take over the younger's body back in the past. Once again, long story.

The Yami watched the wind beat around Ryou's lovely white hair, while his own (slightly darker in shade), stayed completely still against his shoulders, neck and upper back. While they were the same person physically, there was a huge difference when one looked really close. But no one really could.

Bakura's eyes were much sharper and had this glean in it that looked like blood. Making it look like he was a demon, which could be a huge accurate description for him. His hair was much wilder, as if he never brushed his hair in his life. Posture, their posture was also much different and the way they spoke.

"Sorry, 'Kura…"

"Will you quit that?" Bakura growled.

"Ah… Sorry again Yami!" Ryou quickly brought his fingers to his mouth, pretending to zip up his lips and hand a fake key towards the Yami. Who, went along with it and took the invisible key, putting it into his pocket.

Then they were off, Ryou walking quietly through the streets of London. People from all sizes were quick to ignore him, not giving him a second thought (unless it was to look at his hair). It wasn't odd to see so many people that early, since most had jobs and what not.

Hunger came back to Ryou, making him slow down when he came towards coffee shops. The smell of food reeled him in. Soon, he was walking inside a small eatery he enjoyed going to the most. The Spirit at his heels.

~*~*~ Meanwhile ~*~*~

The sound of loud strumming from an electric guitar got Arthur's eyes wide open. It was Saturday morning and the Briton thought he could get some sleep without being disturbed. Obviously not however, especially when he remembered that he agreed to let a certain American, named Alfred stay the night.

The regret that washed over him, made him groan. There was a meeting a night ago and he had used what energy he had in him to stay concentrated. Most mornings, the representative of the United Kingdom woke early. But when he had hit his head on his pillow the night before, he swore to himself that he would rest.

All of that came down to a halt when he heard the loud ruckus from his living room.

Grumbling irritably, he yanked his covers over his body and left his room, going down the hall way. Just glancing at the clock and saw it wasn't even 7:00am! Why did he let Alfred stay over? It just went over his head last night.

As soon as he made it to the door way of his living room, he saw a sight that made him deadpan. Alfred was jumping on the sofa with the most amount of energy that could come within a person. Holding a guitar in his hands, a strap going around his shoulder while loud rock music echoed from the Brit's speakers. He was playing Guitar Hero, since it was awesome according to the American. Since it had the word 'Hero' in it and loud rock music.

"Dunna, dunna! Dun dun! Duuuuuun! Awwwwww yeah!"

"Bloody hell, America! Get down from my sofa! You're ruining it, you insufferable git!" Arthur yelled towards the American, who went ahead in jumping all over the cushions, having not heard the other.

"Boom, alalalalala! Deeeeeeeeuuuuuuh!" Alfred jumped off the sofa, rocking his head back and forth while swinging himself around the living room. Arm going crazy with strumming the invisible strings. The guitar's cord followed him as it made him stop a few steps from Arthur, who had his hands clenched tightly to his side.

It was just way too early to be dealing with this sort of thing… Really. Arthur was old by hundreds of years (though 23 years in physical age). He didn't think he could cope with Alfred's young youth of 19 (even if he was also hundreds of years old too, but not quite as many as Arthur).

With dreary black rings under his piercing green eyes, Arthur reached out and grabbed Alfred's ear just as he came near him. Making the American stop his strumming, letting the guitar drop and hang from the strap as he let out a cry, hands going straight to Arthur's wrists.

"Ahhhhh! Iggy, lemme go! That hurts!" Alfred whined, the music from his PlayStation still coming from the speakers.

The youngster was an open minded boy. Alfred was America's stereotype right to the core. It wasn't great with Arthur who was the UK's stereotype, also to the core. Considering they were America and the UK. It's difficult to explain.

They had fights, they didn't mix, yet they were friends. Good ones at that. Deep down, Arthur cared for Alfred, since he looked after him when he was a young child. Or, colony as one might say. Just as Alfred cared for Arthur, since he did look after him and helped him become independent. That's a long story, that both (well, mainly Arthur), didn't want talk about.

"I will, if you turn that bloody gaming devise off!" Arthur growled, fingers still holding a firm grip against the younger's earlobe.

"Okay, okay! I will if you lemme go already!" Alfred continued to whine as he nodded weakly. If he really wanted to, he could bring the Brit down. But decided against it, because he was an old man. Yeah… That was it.

With a glare, Arthur let go of the American's ear, making him stumble backwards. Alfred rubbed his now reddening ear, going towards the T.V and switching it off. This allowed the sensible one to take a good look at his sofa. It was ruined! The cushions were all askew, the material all crinkled and blankets crumpled.

"Dude, I kn—," but he was quickly cut off when Arthur interrupted him.

"How dare you! I let you over for one miserable night and you completely trash my house! Look at what you did to my bloody couch, you sodding wanker!"

Alfred did look. Peering at the mess with a pout before looking back towards the Brit, who seemed as if he were going to continue. Until he piped up with a comment.

"You don't have'ta flip your shit! I'll fix it, okay?"

If Arthur wasn't so tired with fatigue, he would have shot right back at him. But when he really thought about it, he didn't think he would have the strength too. With a heavy sigh, the Brit put a hand to his forehead and nodded.

"Alright… Alright. Do—Do you want anything for breakfast?"

Well, that was quick. Alfred blinked and gave a sheepish look before nodding. Sometimes the Briton could lose himself in anger, it could be really scary, especially if he handled him wrong. The man could deal a blow with his fist when angry. Alfred knew very well how annoying he was and would probably punch himself if he was in the older man's shoes.

"Sure. Can we go out for break-y?"

"I could cook something here… Though I am tired, America."

With a quiet muse, Arthur heard Alfred praying. Not wanting to eat any of his horrible cooking. Though the Brit found his cooking perfectly eatable!

"Alright! Fine, we'll go out..." Arthur pulled on the hem of his PJ's. "Though, I hardly think I look acceptable at the moment. If you give me a tick, I'll go get dressed." He paused, glancing at Alfred's clothes, which weren't any better than his own. "…And maybe you should do the same, idiot."

Ah, there he was. Alfred chuckled and nodded with a smile. The Englishman was like a woman who was PMS'ing. Always changing moods. Could be nice, yet deadly if provoked. "'Kay, Iggster." With a playful salute, he removed the guitar strap of his shoulder and went right ahead in packing his PlayStation away (having not brought his Xbox 360 with him).

Arthur went back to his room, getting himself ready for the day while Alfred did the same. The American was full of cheer, he wanted to continue playing around with his games, but the old man had to soil his fun. How very like him. The blue eyed nation zipped up his overly full suitcase, ready for when he would take a flight back to America.

But he wasn't sure when, he knew his boss wouldn't require information from him so quickly. The meeting the other night wasn't even that interesting or productive. Mainly because he was the one holding the whole meeting up with his Hero ranting, but he didn't think so. Arthur would object, otherwise.

The Brit sauntered back into the living room, fixing the cuffs of his suit. That's when Alfred snorted, having dressed into some causal wear, yet still had his bomber jacket on.

"Dude, you're seriously wearing that?"

With a confused look on his features, Arthur looked up towards Alfred who was comfortably sitting on the couch that he (thankfully), fixed up. Wearing suits was normal for Arthur, even to this modern day of age. After his Pirate years, he had always seen himself respectable. Don't think him wrong, he did own casual wear. But he wore those when he was cleaning around the house. And if he weren't to be wearing that or a suit, usually it was his green military uniform, which he only wore when he went to meetings.

"Yes, something wrong with it?"

"Nah, it's just that you look like you're gonna go to a funeral or something."

"Doubtful. I don't really know anyone who isn't a nation."

Another fact. Nations don't die like humans, explaining why Arthur and Alfred were hundreds of years old. It was kind of terrible. The Briton was always weighed down with the world, because he was always around to see the troubles and experience the wars. Arthur did talk to people who weren't other nations, but it was risky. While other people aged, he stayed young looking. Friends he made, died and it was just more heartache. In the end, he didn't make any friends apart from other nations.

But he did talk to his people. Every once in a while.

"True… But I can't let you go out like that, Iggy! You'll embarrass yourself!"

"This is my country, you fool! How can I be embarrassed around my own citizens?"

"Don't question the Hero's logic, man. You're gonna wear something different wither you like it or not!" Exclaimed Alfred, getting to his feet as he earned himself a hard stone glare from the other. Not intimidated, the American made his way over towards Arthur, who took a step back.

"Like hell I'd let you touch me. Get away, America!" Arthur's voice was strained to the max, making Alfred cringe and stop in his tracks. Arthur continued with his talking. "If anyone who should be embarrassed, it would be you! You don't fit into my country's stature at all."

But that was easy to be said, than proven. It was partly right, yet wrong. Alfred was not a shy country or person, unlike his brother, Matthew who was **Canada**. Alfred was loud, obnoxious and outspoken. The American could be scolded and yelled at, yet not feel bad about himself. People could look at him, with disgust and he'd not feel shy. In fact, he liked the attention. Bad or not.

It was the opposite for Arthur. No, he wasn't shy. In fact, he just had a different level with boldness. But when someone said something about him (especially when it was some stranger), he made sure he could change himself. Because he cared about his image.

"I know I don't. I'm not from here," Alfred said, sliding his hands into the back of his jeans pockets. Remembering he used too, but that was bad memories for him, so he didn't look back far into it. "Alright, if England wants to wear that, then okay! But if anyone asks if we're together, I'm gonna say no." That was just a cheeky remark, because Alfred didn't mean that. To be around Arthur was incredible. Even if he was cranky some of the time, but he actually had a lot of sense and wisdom that Alfred benefitted from. And on rare occasions, Arthur would smile and laugh with him.

"Likewise, you prick," Arthur muttered, but he knew that Alfred was teasing. So he didn't mean it either. With a glance to the analogue clock on the wall, he saw it was still relatively early. But it would be good if they set off for breakfast before he chased the American back home.

Alfred seemed to read his mind.

"Can we go now? I'm super hungry, dude. Do you have any Mickey D's around?"

"Yes, but we're not going there. We will go to a proper place. I don't feel like having a heart attack on a bun this morning." Arthur moved back around, going towards the door and getting his money, keys already in his pocket.

"Hey! That was uncalled for!" Alfred exclaimed; watching Arthur put on his black shoes as he let out a huff, pouting once again as he childishly slumped after the Briton. No use arguing, he knew he wouldn't win when he didn't have coffee in his system.

"You insult my food, I insult yours." Arthur chuckled and opened the door, feeling the fresh air on his face. The other with glasses perched upon his nose, shuffled on his shoes and jumped outside onto his welcome mat. Heading ahead with a laugh.

"Fair enough, Iggy. Oh yeah! You gotta call me, Alfred now!"

"As you call me, Arthur. And not 'Artie or Art', because that's not my name. I don't like the nicknames you give me… Not even, 'Iggy'. I sound like an obese walrus that lives in a zoo," Arthur complained as they headed out onto the cobble stones. But to say that, was useless. He knew Alfred wouldn't listen.

"Pfft, whatever, Artie."

Point proven.

~*~*~ Meanwhile ~*~*~

Ordering himself some coffee, Ryou went towards the side of the café. Sitting in a booth on his own, a book picked up from a shelf that was an addition to the place in his hands as he opened it to the start.

There was a murmur all around him, people were talking amongst themselves or having a morning feed. The building was nice and cool, yet warm. That was why Ryou loved going there, because it was comfortable and had a light atmosphere.

Bakura hovered towards the opposite side of the booth, leaning his elbow on the table to rest his chin against his palm, looking outside with a sigh. That made Ryou lift his head up from the book he neatly placed onto the table in front of his coffee (which was still too hot to drink). Looking at him in question, a light smile on his face.

"Are you thinking, Yami?"

The Spirit grunted and shrugged, still looking outside with sharp eyes. There wasn't much to do, since he really didn't have anything much to live for. After everything in the past had come to pass, he found himself living a pointless life. The only thing that kept him sane was Ryou's company.

"What would you like to do?" Ryou asked, also putting his elbow on the table and leaning his head into his hand. People around all gave him odd looks, but he promptly ignored them. Since he was used to it.

He must have looked really weird. Talking to an empty space as if there was a real person. Little did they know, though.

"What can I fucking do?" Bakura muttered, turning his still sharp gaze to the sweet eyes of Ryou. "I know. Let me take a drink of your coffee," with that, he swiped at the cup that sat between them. Only to have his hand go right through. "Oh wait, I can't do that."

Ryou frowned at that, brow creasing in sympathy. Was it only now that Bakura was showing how much this really bothered him? Before he used to always have his body into control, so touching things was normal. But it had changed and Ryou was more in control of his body, only rarely letting Bakura have his turn.

"I'm sorry…"

"Also, will you stop apologizing? For Ra's sake…"

"I…" Ryou gulped, looking towards the annoyed looking Yami in front of him. Not knowing what to say, he moved his hands away from the book he had picked out, the pages flying shut from it barely being read. Instead, he picked up his coffee cup and blew over the top, eyes cast low.

With his head low and Bakura being annoyed, they didn't pay attention to the new set of person's that entered the building. Some other strangers looked their way though, because their arguing was quite loud.

Upon noticing so, the blonde haired man in a suit cleared his throat.

"Be quiet, Alfred. People are staring at us…"

Mistake. Alfred just grinned and then gave thumbs up to a British woman who was having a latte with her husband.

The American gave a two finger wave, smiling. "Don't worry 'bout us, miss. Artie-kins and I are just gonna get some break-y!" The woman only rolled her eyes and smiled, looking towards her husband who merely chuckled. They could see he was defiantly a Yank.

The other elbowed the American in the ribs, glaring at him. It was impossible to make Alfred sensible. Since he seemed to rather be like an idiot! The entire café was practically looking at them, which made Arthur embarrassed. If it weren't his clothes that did that, it would be Alfred's presence that would.

With a mutter, Arthur leaned towards Alfred. "You could at least keep a down low. So stop the obscene chanting and go get yourself something to eat."

"Sheesh. Are ya tryin' to sound like my mom?"

That made Arthur shut up and lean back a bit. Ouch, right in the gut!

Alfred saw this and quickly started to shake his hands in front of himself. "Oh crap. I'm sorry, Artie! You're not gonna cry are you?"

"Damn you, Alfred! Just… Just hurry up!" With that, Arthur shoved Alfred towards the counter to make his selection. The looks he was getting just made him a bit more angry and hurt, but he didn't show it and just rose his head up higher. These were his people. Even though they didn't know who he was, he could at least show he was proud of their heritage.

When Alfred was ordering, Bakura had been watching from a distance. The Spirit already didn't like the loud one. Since he reminded him of Marik.

Ryou soon realised Bakura's concentration was somewhere other than the window, so he looked up and over towards the obvious two, who were beside each other and talking. Mostly arguing.

"It's not polite to stare, 'Kura," Ryou said, turning his gaze back towards his Yami as he took a hesitant sip from his coffee.

"I don't care. They can't see me anyway. And what did you call me?"

"Nothing!"

"Thought so," Bakura murmured, looking at them again, before getting bored and looking back towards the window. When Ryou saw he was content again, he looked down at the book he was busy trying to accomplish.

But his attention was snagged when he heard the sound of shattering glass, making him and Bakura both look in unison towards the American.

"Cheese balls! The Hero didn't know his own strength! …HaHaHa…."

Ryou saw the man beside him, dressed in fancy clothes, put a hand to his forehead, looking very angry. He could see it written all over his face, especially with those odd thick eyebrows on his head, narrowed down, making his blazing green eyes sharp enough to slice bread.

"Hero?" Bakura snorted, catching Ryou off guard. "More like the village idiot."

"That's not nice, Yami," Ryou sighed, slowly tearing his eyes away from the two men. Not liking the habit of staring at anyone, because the thought of the person he was looking at, looking back at him, made him nervous. However, Bakura looked at them without much thought.

"Who cares? That one there clearly is an idiot. As soon as he walked in he was making a fool of himself. Fucking dick-weed."

"Stop it," Ryou hissed quietly, no one gave him a second glance because they were too busy looking towards the other two men, who was cleaning up the glass together when the shops assistants handed them two brooms.

Arthur cleaned because he felt responsible for Alfred's idiocy and Alfred because he was told too by Arthur.

Bakura shrugged again, finally looking away so he could face his Hikari who didn't look very pleased.

"What?"

"If it makes you happy… Then go ahead and say mean things… But don't say anything to me." Ryou knew he shouldn't have been so sensitive. But it was how he was raised, he was polite and really cared about people. Even if they didn't know him. Bakura was just the complete opposite.

"It isn't mean if they can't hear me." Bakura smirked, leaning his back into the booth, arms crossed. "You also don't have to make it sound like I am a bad person. Do I look like a bad person?"

"Do I have to answer that?" Ryou mentally feeling a sweat drop sliding down the back of his neck.

Bakura just wavered a hand, looking towards the two other men, who finally received their food and were sitting not too far from them. In fact, they were right next to them in different seats. Except they were sitting in movable chairs and table, while Ryou and Bakura were on booths by the window.

"Alfred… I don't understand why you ordered so much. I'm bloody paying for you and you ordered enough to feed the whole of London!"

"Chillax, dude. No need to get all grumpy."

That only made Arthur glare ice daggers at Alfred.

"You're also a klutz. You broke a perfectly good piece of glass. That's coming out of my pay check too, you git. I do hope you're happy, maybe while I am paying for that, I should go buy myself a wig with a cowlick on top and some glasses. See how that will turn out," Arthur said bitterly, which went right over Alfred's head as he just smiled.

"Hey! That sounds awesome, yo!"

"Shut up."

Alfred pursed his lips, letting the smile on his face soften as he looked towards the Brit. Before he could say something, a woman came towards them with trays of food, placing them all in front of Alfred while a single cup of tea was set in front of Arthur.

Bakura the whole time was staring, looking wildly amused. Ryou didn't want to look for he was just too scared that he might end up offending them.

With a twitch of his eyebrow, Arthur watched the American gobble at his food, not even saying thank you to the woman. Instead, he thanked the waitress, handed her the money and took a napkin towards himself. Clenching it in his hand to stop himself from strangling Alfred.

But something felt odd, like a shiver going down his spine. It was as if someone was staring at him. Promptly ignoring Alfred's happy munching of food, he turned his head to the right then to the left. Right there, right beside him, in front of a nice looking lad with white hair, was a Spirit of some sort.

The Spirit seemed to be looking right back at him, eyes cold but they suddenly turned into surprise. Much to Arthur's surprise, he watched as the arm of the Spirit make its way towards the other boy's book. Waving his hand.

Bakura didn't look away and neither did Arthur. It was creepy.

It was like the blonde was looking right at him… But no one was meant to see him!

Ryou saw Bakura's hand and looked up. "What's wrong, Bakura?" he whispered.

This shocked Arthur considerably. Because the boy could see this Spirit and seemed to know his name!

The Spirit, named Bakura, spoke lowly. "He's looking at me…"

Ryou looked over, peering at Arthur who was just staring at Bakura like he was some kind of three headed man. With a frown coming onto his features, he watched Arthur's Adam's apple move as if he swallowed, before glancing towards the other man in front of him.

Bakura kept staring. "The fuck. He saw me! That creep saw me!" What surprised him the most, was when the other turned his head back around and snapped.

"I'm not a bloody creep. Whoever you are."

Alfred chewed at his food, finally paying attention towards Arthur who was glaring towards an empty booth seat. "Who're talking too, Artie?"

"No one," Arthur huffed, looking away.

Bakura glared just as much towards the Brit, not liking him at all. First the American, now him.

Alfred tilted his head and swallowed his mouthful, looking towards that booth area, his eyes falling upon Ryou, who just looked innocent and confused. "Was he talking to ya?" he asked. Only getting shake of his head in return. "Artie can seem like he has a stick up his arse, but he's kinda cool when you get to know him," Alfred explained. "He thinks he can see magical creatures, so what's over there," he gestured to the empty booth side. "Is some imaginary friend of his. Prolly having a fight~"

"Shut up, Alfred. The lad doesn't want to hear. And they are not imaginary! They are real!"

Bakura took his turn to snort. "I'm not some imagination and most defiantly not that creep's friend."

Ryou bit his lip, shutting the book he had in front of him completely. "Excuse me… I think something is the wrong."

"Don'tcha worry 'bout it, dude." Alfred laughed to himself, picking up a bit of bacon and nomming on it hungrily. "Sorry for awkward'ing you out. Art's just a total Tsun-Tsun."

"Am not!" Arthur snapped.

"Tsundere…?" Ryou questioned, glancing towards Bakura who just looked away angrily, arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah! You know Japanese?" Alfred blinked, looking partially curious.

"Mm, I lived there for a while…"

"But you're English?" Arthur asked, purposely ignoring Bakura even if he was fascinated by him. But as if he were going to admit to that.

Ryou was just overly shocked that this guy, Arthur, could see his Yami. Not Alfred, he just seemed so oblivious. Eventually, the Hikari smiled and gave a nod.

"That's cool! Hey, I have a friend from Japan. That's why I know a bit of Japanese-say~" The way Alfred pronounced Japanese words, made Bakura snicker. But Alfred of course, didn't hear him.

With another nod, Ryou closed his hands around his coffee cup, looking towards his Yami in question, who looked right back. When the American saw Ryou's attention somewhere other than him, he frowned and glanced at the empty space. Arthur was already staring at Bakura, so Alfred felt like he was missing something.

"Uh… What're you lookin' at?"

Ryou opened his mouth, then shut it and took a sip of his cooling coffee. Mind link was incredible. He could have a conversation with Bakura without having to say it out vocally. The youngest looked towards Alfred with a smile.

"No one."

Alfred blinked his cerulean eyes, picking up his own coffee and taking a swig of it. The heat was bearable. "How come you and Artie are staring at nothing?" he pointed to the empty spot, making Bakura glare at him. A shiver went down the American's spine, but he didn't see anything…

Arthur finally recuperated and sighed, looking away so he could glance at Alfred. "I don't think you ought to ask something like that. It's not very polite."

That was something Ryou would say! This made Bakura suspiciously look harder at him. Something was coming off him, but he wasn't sure what it was. It was as if he had been around for a long time, and knew magic of some sort…

"It's okay, sir! Yami and I wouldn't mind telling you."

Alfred and Arthur turned towards Ryou. "Yami?" they said in unison.

Bakura simply looked shocked, shooting a look towards Ryou who smiled and shrugged.

"Mm! His name is Bakura, my Yami." Ryou gestured to the empty space in front of him, only Arthur being able to see. Alfred was beginning to think that everyone from the UK was completely insane.

"Lemme translate that!" Alfred pulled out his phone and began to type in the word, 'Yami' into his Japanese dictionary. Kiku his friend, or better known as Japan, gave him the app when they were talking about technology last meeting. Who knew that it would come in handy?

Arthur paused, looking towards Ryou after the introduction. "To get pleasantries out of the way, I'll go ahead in introducing us?" After a small nod from Ryou, the bushy browed Brit continued. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. While him," he pointed to the 19 year old on his phone. "Is referred to as Alfred F. Jones."

"Nice to meet you both, my name is Ryou Bakura… That's where my Yami's name came from, because originally he didn't have one…"

"I did, actually," Bakura muttered. "It was a lovely name, but I fucking changed it when you were younger because you couldn't pronounce, 'Akefia'."

"Really? I didn't know!" Ryou looked and sounded surprised.

"Now you do."

Alfred let out a triumphant cry. "I got it! Yami, means, a Japanese term that describes a person or thing to be related to either darkness or evil." The American read off his phone.

"Oh… Quite, quite," Arthur nodded. "This is extraordinary… Are you saying Ryou that you're the light to Bakura as to polar opposites?"

"Yeah. I'm his Hikari!"

Alfred didn't like the sound of that. Evil? That obviously meant villain and being the Hero; he wanted to overcome that evil.

"Should I look up Hikari too?" he said instead, earning a sigh from Arthur.

"You don't have to, stupid. We obviously know that Hikari is opposite of Yami."

Ryou peered back over to his counterpart, who rolled his eyes and didn't heed to Arthur's and Alfred's arguing. If they wanted to know anything, they had to ask. But, both thought together on how Arthur could see Bakura. Wondering, why and how. There had to be an answer.

"Don't be such a meany, Artie! We're making Ry all awkward!"

"It's not my fault! You're the one asking absurd questions!"

"But I had to!"

"You did not."

"Did so!"

"Not."

"So!"

"Not."

"I did so! Stop it, Artie! Geez." Alfred whined, rutting out his lower lip as he glared towards Arthur, who didn't look at him.

Ryou could only watch. They acted so mean to each other… Yet they got along in some twisted way. It was interesting to witness, despite how awkward it did make him feel. A low amused laugh from Bakura, made Arthur side glance him.

"What?"

"Are you talking to me now?" Bakura said with amusement, raising an eyebrow as he chuckled to himself.

"What's so damn funny?" Arthur demanded, making Alfred scratch the back of his head.

"Hey, Art?"

"Not now, Alfred. I'm talking to Bakura."

The Spirit turned his face back towards Ryou, watching him before peering at the other Brit from the corner of his mahogany eyes.

"Retard and you over there, remind me of an angry couple. Always fighting, but have a love going on. You probably fuck each other's brains out. That's what's so damn funny."

Ryou looked shocked. He couldn't believe what Bakura said. It was degrading and so very rude. Surely his mouth needed to be washed with soap.

Arthur felt his cheeks heat up from anger and… Something else. "We're… Not like that!"

"Not like what, Artie?" Alfred asked, tilting his head. The food he was eating before was long gone and forgotten. A waiter or waitress came and took it somewhere along the lines when they were arguing, so now Alfred could place his hands on the countertop and lean in, looking intrigued. "Is the invisible dude talking to you?"

But since when did the American believe that there was someone in that seat? Well, only because Ryou said there was, to be honest.

The Briton felt anger bubbling in him, but he couldn't do anything about it. Not there, not in the shop. Bakura felt a smirk coming onto his face, making him reel his head back and laugh.

"Did I just touch a nerve? How very insensitive of me."

"Yeah 'Kura. That was very insensitive of you. Take it back. Apologize!" Ryou exclaimed, his voice not going very loud because he didn't want to arouse any attention towards their booth. But it was too vain, because a majority of the café were looking at them.

"Do _not_ call me, 'Kura!" Bakura spat towards the Hikari. "I told you too many fucking times. I hate the name! So shut up, Landlord!"

Ryou did shut up, staring wide eyed at the Yami who seemed to be quite agitated. The look of annoyance quickly vanished when he saw the tears welling into the young ones eyes. Usually Ryou could hold back any feelings, but that was the last straw.

It was too much. Now Ryou felt like he was going to cry in front of these two new people, all because his stupid feelings were playing up on him. How childish, how babyish. Cry baby. Ryou didn't want to be picked on, so he stood up and looked towards Arthur and Alfred with his head bowed low.

"Excuse me…" Then the young one was out.

Alfred had no idea what was going on. For he could only hear the conversation from Arthur's and Ryou's mouth. So when Ryou stood up, he couldn't understand why the younger one looked ready to cry. The Hero wished he could fix this mess. If only he knew what the hell was going on! Wanting answers, he turned his gaze back towards Arthur.

Bakura stood up also, looking towards the door where Ryou left. Arthur tilted his head up to peer at him. A bit shell shocked. When the Yami sighed, he frowned.

"Are you not going to go after him?"

The darker counterpart glared down at the Brit. "Just stay out of it, Arthur." Everything from before was really entertaining. It broke him from his boredom. It was the most interesting thing that happened to him since he returned to Ryou's side. But he hurt his Hikari, and he could feel the disappointment and sadness down through their mind link.

He didn't give a damn about Arthur though.

The Spirit floated out of the window, turning sharply to the left and was out of sight. Most likely going after his Hikari so he could fix his outburst.

When silence prevailed (except the café's murmurs), Alfred reached out and gently put a hand against Arthur's shoulder. Giving a little nudge so he could get his attention.

"Artie? What happened?"

Finally looking over, Arthur sighed. The American promptly took his hand back towards himself, letting the tips of his fingers grip the edge.

Arthur covered his face with his hands, letting out a deep breath. "That bloody delinquent!" he suddenly exclaimed, pulling his hands away from his face so he could look into the worry filled eyes of the American.

Even if he was a bit of an idiot, he was there when he needed him and cared.

"Who?" Alfred asked softly.

"Bakura. He hurt Ryou's feelings," Arthur growled, gently massaging his temple with his fingers. Seething quietly.

"The invisible dude? He sounds like a bad guy! This Hero will bring justice, don't ya wor—."

"No, no. I'll say he is a bit of a villain. But you can't do anything about it, Alfred. This isn't your time to step in."

Alfred nodded, getting to his feet. "Instead of justice, maybe the Hero can give you a hug?"

This made Arthur choke on his spit, looking up towards Alfred who had his arms outstretched. Oh no, he was not hugging him in front of people.

"I don't need your hugs," Arthur replied as quickly as he could.

"C'mere!"

"No… Not in front of everybody," Arthur muttered. Making Alfred frown. Wanting to cheer up the Brit and he knew the trick, but they had to be away from everyone.

Without much warning, he grabbed hold of Arthur's wrist and began leading him towards the door. The Brit stumbled after him, looking bewildered.

"Alfred? What the hell are you doing?!"

As soon as they were outside, in the street of people, Alfred gently pushed Arthur backwards and towards an alley way. Just standing in the mouth of it, so they weren't pushed around by the few people walking around.

"Alfred? What if Ryou and Ba—."

The American wrapped his arms tightly around the Brit's shoulders, pulling him into a warming hug. It was long and very stiff. Arthur had chosen the moment to tense up like a cat dropped in cold water. Minus the thrashing.

"I don't know what's going on, Arthur… But you looked so angry and guilty, it wasn't even my doing! I just wanna help."

It was times like that, that made Arthur feel all weak kneed. Alfred couldn't have picked a better moment to show his concern. With a shaky breath, the smaller man wrapped his arms around Alfred's bulky and soft waist, bringing his head into the American's shoulder.

Alfred felt a lot better, like he was doing something good. To fix up the mess, it really got the blue eyed nation in good terms. Like he really was a Hero. Though he didn't fix one end, he was just happy that he got Arthur to hug back.

Eventually, Arthur's body came into full relaxation, depending on Alfred to stay upright. "Angry, yes. Guilty? No. I'm not guilty, I think it is Bakura who is feeling that right now," the Briton said truthfully, voice slightly muffled in Alfred's bomber jacket. So to breathe, he tilted his head around so he could lean his ear against the younger man's broad chest.

"What did he say to Ryou that got him to leave?" Alfred asked.

"I believe Bakura didn't like being called, 'Kura."

Alfred cringed. He called Arthur a lot of pet names. That's when he realised that he was so lucky to have the Brit as his friend. He didn't get that angry when he called him nicknames, even when he said that he didn't like them.

"Poor dude. What the invisible guy said, must've been…"

"Diddly."

The American laughed, chest rumbling as he did so. Arthur could hear and feel the vibrations against his ear.

"Diddly? Seriously? You cease to amaze me, Arthur."

Looking up, Arthur pulled back a slight from the hug so he could see his face, prodding the American's chest with a slender finger. "The English language has its odd names. Unlike your American way of speaking. That is simply atrocious from left to right."

Alfred didn't remark back at him, he just grinned. Happy to see and hear that the Briton wasn't angry.

"And up, down and all around!"

Arthur smiled. In some way, Alfred had calmed him down from raging at the Spirit. This certainly would be funny to talk about with Tink and Hook next time he saw them. Slowly, he leaned his head back against Alfred's chest again, letting out a sigh.

The American lad did a similar motion, leaning his head gently on top of the Brit's head. Still encasing him in his arms. It kept them warm. The hug was calming, so neither one of them felt the need to speak. Because it was good just the way it was.

The first signs of rain appeared, making them both look up, still in each other's arms. Arthur was the first to make a move, letting go of Alfred's waist. But Alfred didn't let go, he just tilted his head back down and smiled.

"Stay in the rain with me~!" he said in a sing song voice. Making the Brit look at him as if he was crazy. It would get unpleasant in the rain!

"Why should I? It will get cold. I don't want to get wet."

"The Hero will protect ya!" Alfred exclaimed, while thunder rolled in. A few drops of rain falling on the American's head, running down his cheek. It began to get heavier as the seconds went by, making Arthur pull harder away. But he couldn't move. He was stuck in Alfred's vice like grip.

"This is silly, Alfred. My clothes are getting wet!" Arthur yelled over the rain, the drops hitting the cobble stones. Everyone behind them in the main street had umbrellas. Some black and very few colours. But they had more sense than them.

"Doesn't matter! Hey, Artie? Have you ever heard the term, 'kissing in the rain'?"

Arthur didn't seem to catch up with Alfred's obvious innuendo (who was the oblivious one, now!).

"What does that got to do with anyth—?"

The Brit was silenced from his words when the moist lips of the younger nations, mixed with his own. Startling him considerably, because there was his former colony, holding him tightly while kissing him in the rain.

He didn't know how to react, so he turned into a stiff board all over again. When Alfred pulled his head back back, his whole body (apart from his shirt under his bomber jacket), was soaked and all that could be heard was his nervous breathing and obvious pitter patters from the rain. The American didn't know what was going on in the Englishman's head. For all he knew, he could be cursing him to high heaven.

Eventually, the Brit fell limp in his arms, looking up at him with the most utter disbelief.

"What _was_ that?"

"A kiss!"

"I'm not daft! I meant… Why? We hate each other."

"Do you?"

"Erm. Not at all…"

"Then why're you so quick to point that out?"

Arthur didn't say anything; instead he leaned back a bit, somehow getting out of Alfred's arms. There was a lot for him to think about. But why think? He didn't need to. He knew of his feelings for the younger nation.

Alfred gave up this time, taking a step back and just looked into his former brothers eyes. His glasses all wet with sliding drops of water from the rain. It made his bright blue eyes much more illuminating. The younger didn't know what to do now. It looked like Arthur didn't enjoy his little surprise.

Now he felt stupid and that was rare. Because Alfred could do many things and not feel guilty.

"Look… I'm sorry." Alfred dropped his arms loosely to his side, letting them swing idly as he looked down.

"You're a stupid lad."

"I know…"

"Completely unreadable and absolutely absorbed with yourself."

"Yeah…"

"A giant tosser who doesn't look into things clearly."

"Got any more things to turn the Hero down?" Alfred said sadly.

"Let me finish."

Alfred sighed.

"A git who can't take negative answers for a no. An imbecile who doesn't regard himself for others, despite what you say. A dolt with a thick brain and a sick sense of humour. An idiot who… Cares for an old man like me."

That in turn, made the younger one look up. Water fell through each of their hair, making them look shiny in the darkened weather.

Arthur took a hesitant step forward, knowing that this was indeed sappy and wished to end this all. But, who cared?

"A fool who seems to worry about me dearly and a brat who makes my life thrilling," Arthur murmured, coming right in front of the American and putting his hands behind the American's head and against his neck, rubbing small circles with his thumb against the earlobe he abused many ago before. "Do you think I hate you?" he whispered.

The water was still running readily down them, soaking their clothes to the point where it looked like they had been swimming. Alfred's lips were going a little blue. The blue eyed man smiled, softly and sweetly.

"I don't think so. Do you?" Alfred hummed, enjoying the small touches against his face.

"Never." Arthur leaned in and placed a confident kiss against the corner of the younger man's lips. Gently pressing their foreheads together.

A deep breath left Alfred's lips, making him shrink down so he could easily be in level with his former caregiver. Arms back around Arthur, but this time around his waist.

Bakura was right; they did have a love going on. If Arthur disregarded the fucking part, he could easily say that he was a reader of feelings. But that was just stupid. Bakura? Reading the atmosphere? Come on.

They leaned in again, gently pressing their lips together for more kisses.

They stood, in the rain, in each other's arms. Not having a care in the world.

~*~*~ Meanwhile ~*~*~

Ryou exited the building. No, he wasn't going to cry, it would be so embarrassing if he did. Quickly putting the heel of his palm against one eye, he sniffed and walked out of the building, going right and made his way to the bench by the side of the road.

Sitting down, he bit his lip and sighed. Bakura was just so mean sometimes. Those words, he didn't mean it? Ryou didn't mean to call him, 'Kura. It was just so much easier for him to say and less awkward to keep repeating his last name. It wasn't 'fluffy' at least (that name was the worst, according to Bakura). That was why he didn't hang around Marik much anymore.

Now Arthur and Alfred probably thought he was an utter cry baby! Just imagining them probably snickering at him, just made his tummy roll around uncomfortably. They were nice people too; they could have been his friends. But one way or another, Bakura had to ruin it.

But how did Arthur see Bakura in the first place? That was still questioning the boy, making his head reel much like his gut.

Putting his hands in his pockets, the Hikari looked down at his lap before a familiar voice spoke to him, making him look up. At least Ryou didn't feel his eyes welling up with tears, he was past that now. But the sight of his Yami just made him a little mad.

Bakura seemed to feel it through their mind-link, so he threw his hands up in the air.

"You're over reacting," he said simply. Making Ryou feel a whole new wave of emotion, but no, he didn't let it out. "It was the vibrant truth. I hate the name, 'Kura. I'm not a pet, I'm not some slave."

"You treated me like one, once…" Ryou mumbled.

Taken back, Bakura fell silent before shutting his eyes tightly, brow creasing. "Dammit Hikari. What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say sorry," Ryou said firmly.

"I'm sorry. There, I said it."

With a sigh, the Hikari kicked his legs out in front of himself on the bench. Looking at his lap, a face of disappointment against his features.

"You don't mean it."

Bakura couldn't succeed this time. When Ryou wanted some closure, he had to give it to him and that meant that the brown eyed boy needed to win.

"Sit still. Make it look like you're just taking a small nap." The Spirit moved towards Ryou, sitting next to him. When he saw Ryou look up from his lap, looking confused, he sighed.

"Tch. Did you hear me?"

With a small nod from Ryou, he shut his eyes and comfortably leaned back, head down and hands in his pockets. He had a feeling that they were going to travel into their soul-rooms. There they could talk without looking stupid. Mind-links were a lot harder to put across when everything sounded monotoned.

When Ryou opened his eyes again, he was standing in a dark hall way. Ahead of him were two doors, one by the other. One was wide open and looked like a dark black hole. But that was just Bakura's soul-room. So with slow steps, he made his way towards it, poking his head in. Looking around, he saw the room take shape.

It was like a dungeon. A wooden attachment to the wall that reminded him of a cells bed. The wall hadn't got many things on it, but it was much brighter than it used to be. Upon the wooden attachment, sat Bakura. Leaning his back against the wall and looking sharply ahead of him.

He didn't look like a Spirit; he looked like a solid being. In their soul-room. It was where they could touch each other.

Ryou shuffled in, the door slamming shut behind him, making him yelp in surprise and jolt forward. When nothing was said, he looked back towards Bakura. Wondering what he wanted to say, wondering how this will turn out. Quickly as he looked at him, he looked away and frowned.

"How much more do I have to do to show I am sorry?" Bakura muttered, startling Ryou. "Look, I don't fucking apologize. I just don't."

That brought memories of the past. The Pharaoh… His friends. Long story.

"I think we both have to say sorry to each other," Ryou finally said. "You were out spoken today… Arthur didn't do anything wrong… It went out of hand!" With a sigh, he went towards his Yami and lightly sat on the bench beside him, letting their shoed feet touch. "I also didn't mean to agitate you, Yami. I'm sorry."

Bakura's foot flinched as it made contact with Ryou's, but soon let it slide when he saw he meant well.

"Arthur and Alfred both annoy me. I had to tell them what I thought. I don't know how it was offensive. I'm probably right!"

"You don't know that," Ryou remarked.

"It's written on their fucking faces."

"Yami."

Looking away from the wall, Bakura turned to face Ryou. Surprised to feel the young one lean his head gently against his shoulder. Not sure how to act, he stayed still.

"You've been bored for so long that you had forgotten how to make friends." It was a statement. Really simple. Bakura was going to be offended, until he picked up the tone in Ryou's voice. It was like a hot knife slicing through butter. Clean and fast, so he couldn't react irrationally.

"I don't want any friends."

"Then what do you have?" the Hikari asked softly, rubbing his cheek against Bakura's shoulder. "It's just the shadows and me."

That was true. When Bakura stayed quiet, Ryou shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around his Yami's torso, letting his head drop towards the others chest. Listening for a heartbeat, only to find nothing. Fluttering his eyelids shut, he sighed.

Bakura just chose to sit there like a rock, not saying a thing and not moving. But Ryou knew he was thinking. Probably on what he said.

Soon, Bakura opened his mouth and placed his hand on top of the white haired boys head.

"Maybe that's all I need."

"Huh?" Ryou opened his eyes, gripping onto Bakura's black t-shirt with his fist.

"Fuck up, don't make me say it again."

"But 'Ku—."

"Ryou," the Spirit warned.

"Bakura."

The Yami laughed, making his body shake a little. It was comforting for Ryou. Then Bakura sighed, letting the hand on top of his Hikari's head fall onto his back. Gently squeezing before he bent down and pressed a light kiss against his forehead.

"There. That's my apology," Bakura stated, looking away.

Ryou chuckled, clinging a bit more onto Bakura's shirt. It was very sweet.

"It's not enough," Ryou whispered, looking up towards his darker half, seeing him look down so they could let their eyes meet. "Right here." Ryou put a finger to his bottom lip, a smile on his face. "You gotta kiss me here."

Bakura's face heated up, but Ryou couldn't tell. The Yami's eyebrows rose in question, looking a little surprised but amused. "There?" Bakura rasped, touching Ryou's bottom lip with his index finger, making the younger smile wider.

"Yes..."

The Spirit made it quick. He leant in and brushed his lips against his lighter half's ones in a small simple kiss. Pulling back and smirking somewhat, leaning his head against the bricked wall behind him.

"Fuck. Look at what you made me do."

"You're turning soft, Yami," Ryou teased, gently nudging his head against the others chest.

"I'd watch your mouth."

"Speak for yourself."

The sound of thunder from the real world got Ryou shooting back up into a sitting position. Looking up all around him, he shivered and got up to his feet, looking towards Bakura who pulled himself to the edge, resting his legs over the wood.

"I think it's raining." Ryou put his hand over his chest, feeling at the millennium ring against his skin. Looking towards his Yami, the Hikari smiled at him before he vanished from Bakura's soul-room.

Ryou's real body woke up with a massive jolt, clothes soaked right through. After the little escapade in his darks soul-room, Ryou's mind was like jelly. Pulling himself up, he shivered and got to his feet. Stumbling back towards the café and opening the door, getting inside.

As he ruffled out his white hair, he ignored the people who side glanced him. Making his way to the booth he sat at and saw that the American and fellow Briton was nowhere in sight.

Ryou and Bakura never saw Arthur and Alfred again. It was just a moment in time, where you meet some people and part ways. Both sides didn't know that each brought themselves closer to the person they loved the most.

[[Mel-sama: Don't flame me.

Ryou: . _ .

Bakura: BT

America: O A O

England: = _ = ]]


End file.
